


The Magnificent Café

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, and it's fluffy af, just like a presentation tho, short but sweet, yes it's a magnificent seven coffee shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:26:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8171461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Welcome to the Magnificent Café, in the middle of Rose Creek. Goodnight and Billy used to have a bar but it blew up. Now they have a small café, however odd it may sound for a couple of criminals like them. This is an account of the people who spend time there, and who make it what it is.





	

The Magnificent was a small café despite its grandiloquent name, but its clients loved it. In the middle of the town, a bit darker and less modern than other coffee shops in the area, with less sofas and more wooden chairs, absolutely no wifi and no beautiful ornamentation in the walls, the Magnificent boasted of having an out-of-time charm and wonderful personnel. 

 

It used to be a bar, once upon a time, feeding the vices of the owners' friends, an unending well of whisky late nights that became mornings, jokes and more than one bar fight. In fact, things got a bit out of hand at the end, and after angering soe bad guys with his tricks, and Faraday nearly died shot to death and the place, what used to be their tavern was...well, blown up. 

 

Maybe it had been a sign, the bar blowing up in pieces. And it hadn't been the first time one of them nearly kicked the bucket for something that happened at the bar, so in a moment of clarity Goodnight Robichaux, owner and manager extraordinaire, decided to change its face, add some sweetness and drink alcohol and start fights in someone else's business. Make his place a bit more safe. They had too many close calls and one of those too long days he could be end up dead (like poor Jack Horne had) and like Faraday almost was. Or worse, something could happen to Billy. This was a risk Goodnight was not willing to take. 

 

So instead of opening another bar after reconstructing the place, they opened a café, so people could have breakfast after their late nights, or come after lunch or after work to have a more...peaceful time. The transition wasn't easy -at all- and sometimes they felt a bit ridiculous surrounded by all those sweet things, (although there always was a bottle of whiskey hidden somewhere, sometimes several) in the end they all got used to it. They did enjoy coffee, most of them at least, and the café was a nice place to play cards, meet ladies, and just to kill time between jobs. 

 

While Goodnight was the manager, Billy, the other owner, spent most of his time on the kitchen, making cakes and pies and cookies (and Goodie thought,who would have thought that his lover the hitman, who he'd met when he was supposed to arrest him, his lover the criminal, would be so good making cakes, and he marvelled at Billy's skill in the kitchen the way he had marvelled the day they met and Rocks knocked out a dozen guys with his bare hands) and always trying new things, bringing pastries from his homeland to those tired americans and putting a different touch to other classics. 

 

Now they had one of those modern waiters, too – what were they called again? Ah, yeah. A barista. (Vasquez found the word very funny for some reason) Their Barista's name was Red Harvest (probably not his real name, but who where they to judge?) and he was silent and efficient and he made cocktail-like drinks with coffee and milk and chocolate and weird variations of tea and spices in the drinks... A real wise choice, hiring that guy. They knew very little about him, other than he had a sharp sense of humour and that he took no shit and he was extremely good at what he did. Probably half of the success of the place came from Red Harvest special's and the other half from Billy's pies, even though Goodnight liked to claim that it was his savoir faire as an entrepeneur what had made the place a smash. 

 

Well, maybe not a smash (yet) but they did have their clients. A bunch of old friends, like Sam Chisholm, who enjoyed his coffee black and unsweetened and lemon pund cake with no ice cream and distracting Goodnight with his tales of outlaws from Nebraska, and Texas and seven other states. He came on the evenings usually, read the newspaper and caught up with his friends. He'd been separated from them for many years, and was enjoying both having people he cared about around, who didn't judge and question him, and also the relative calm of the coffee place compared to the chaos of the past. 

 

There was obviously also Faraday, who used that place not to relapse on his rampant aloholism. He asked for drinks that tasted like wine or liquor but had none, and it was a way of coping. After nearly dying when he could have avoided many injuries just by being sober, he realised that it would be better to cut his alcohol intake a bit, enough so that it wouldn't be dangerous for him. But it wasn't easy because he'd used to be drinking aaaaall the time. So this place was a distraction, something to do that was not alcoholic. And besides, the apple pie was really good. 

 

But apple pie was not the only reason he went to that place, not at all. There was a guy, a mexican that came by often, shady smile, dark sense of humour... he fit right in. Vasquez was the name, and he ordered weird ass drinks like watermelon agua fresca, horchata, and who knows what else and got on Faraday's nerves a lot at first, they were always bickering, but he was a great guy deep down, and in between jokes and drinks somehow they'd bonded. Somewhere along the way that dude had become important for him and he liked spending time with him and – well, he liked the guy. There was nothing wrong with that. 

 

There were also other clients, of course, people from the town. Like Emma, who ordered tea and seemed pretty sweet but also had something in her eyes that warned you she could probably kill a man and not regret it for a second, or her friend Teddy, who was big on chocolatey drinks and seemed generally scared of the rest of the people that frequented the establishment. 

 

Goodnight was happy with the clients they had, few as they may have been. He thought sometimes about the past, the horrors of war, the nightmares, all that blood... It seemed almost miraculous to be where he was now with darkness so far, with a man in his bed that smelled liked cinnamon and strawberries but also knew how to kill a man with a hair pin, with friends from all over the world who came to, you know, eat pie, have a cup of coffee – have a little chat. 

 

It was, in one word – magnificent. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! Feedback is super appreciated! :)


End file.
